Page 52 of Omega’s Forward

I think about lying. “Not really, but I’m good.”

JP nods. “Then I’ll see you tomorrow.”

I sit behind the wheel and check my phone. My sister has wished me luck. The group chat is already forty messages deep.

Nothing else. I knew there wouldn’t be.

I don’t know what I wanted him to say. I put it face down on the passenger seat.

Without thinking about it too consciously, I drive back past the Meridian hotel where we first met the Bureau guy as if Everett Rourke is going to be standing outside.

He’s not. I don’t even know if he is there. I don’t know where he went. I didn’t ask, and he didn’t say.

I tell myself to stop being such a dumbass and drive home to a house that still smells like oranges.

16. Everett

“The team finances are up to date,” Priya says, moving the room service tray from the second chair before she sits down. Her nose wrinkles slightly. “I’ve gone through all of it. I’ve negotiated the arena lease too down to something that wasn’t outright criminal. Still waiting for the docs to be signed but I think we’re clear. Season-ticket renewals went out ten days late but we’re still above projections.”

“Good.” I’ve not left the hotel room since I arrived. I haven’t wanted to.

I know.

From trapped in one room to voluntarily stuck in another. The irony isn’t lost on me.

I have not heard from him. For the record, I have not messaged him either. I have barely messaged anyone. The file is closed, the app is deleted, and closed is what I wanted. I have thrown myself into enjoying it.

“Callahan’s got away with four games. Dorn’s been fined.”

I frown. “Did you point out that they are facing serious liability if he kills someone.”

“Uh huh. We put in an official complaint but that’s still working its way through the legal eagles. Of course, they’re charging per letter just the way they like. The more letters they send, the better they like it. You want me to light a fire under them.”

“Yeah,” I say. “But don’t worry about the cost. Just make sure they get the point across.”

I saw Callahan on television after the hearing. Five minutes after, the news crew started interviewing people in the street asking them what they thought. It’s easy for me to forget how famous he is here and how well loved.

More than well loved. There was more than one squeal at the news that he was back in the game. It’s easy to see why he gets the fans going.

Then they turned to highlights of his career. I turned it off just as they started showing clips from old interviews.

I don’t think I could have heard his voice and not gone completely insane. I can still smell woodsmoke on me.

Sensitivity to scent from the heat is meant to fade within the week. It hasn’t yet. I still catch him everywhere and I know it’s me and not real. I’ve had the hotel send up scent neutralizers almost every single day.

He’s inside me.

“The office is packed up,” Priya continues. “I let Sacco take what he wanted. Then I had someone appraise for memorabilia. There are a few items that are worth something. You want me to offer those to the team or let them go to auction?”

“Team first, then auction.”

“You sure you don’t want to keep anything?”

“Definitely not.”

“Fine. The general manager search, then.” She pushes a folder toward me. “This is the guy. He’s got great credentials. Name is Belanger.”

The name rings a bell. “I know him.”